What can I say? She makes it *a point* to thank her producer for "letting her" sing the songs "she wrote".Who else can recall anyone saying that. Gee thanks for letting me write and my own hits! Well that's modest. The narcissism is totally lost to the adoring and cashing in media.

All I can do is sit and frown. This little s..t whose songs were exactly like those stolen from Katherine. At least two from her first album. Like my Indian colleague said to me, "you mean they all sing and claim songs here [in the US] they didn't write? In India everyone knows the singers don't write their songs. It doesn't matter what they claim. Only here no one knows!".

My wife sits stuck in our little house. Her life in ruins. People who moved in all over the street just to watch and try to rob us. Not a thing I can do about it. The moment Katherine forgot to double lock the door someone then snuck right into the house to steal some copyrights and financial papers (they are screwing her trades obvouisly in cahoots with an insider at Fidelity).I got home right after they were in the house. I pulled up and saw a little shit I've seen before sitting in the lot right next to our house grinning. Right away it was a rega flag. Then I go to the back door only to find it casually locked which I can open and enter. Normally I wait for her to let me in because only with a bolt from the inside can we keep professional criminals out. There is no lock they can't pick, or somehow get a copy of the key. Just ask any lock smith. So immediately I knew we be had - again.

And this little lying sack of s..t.......

What's worse is she is a mediocre singer. A lousy dancer, and can't play guitar. And her songs I allege are stolen and not written by her as she plays innocently to claim.

If there is a God then maybe there will be justice some day.

""Over the last three and a half years, Ms. Swift has established herself as pop’s leading naïf. Not in her songwriting, which has been precocious, but in her persona. By now, she’s even patented a look she whips out at award shows, concerts and more, when her innocence is threatened by acclaim: eyes wide, mouth agape, hand held over it as if to keep in the breath she’d just gasped as if it were her last.

Most stars — and make no mistake, Ms. Swift is the most important new pop star of the past few years — have their images undone by failure. In Ms. Swift’s case, the opposite is true: success has necessitated a re-evaluation.

Her Sunday night at the Grammys will be remembered as the turning point. She won four awards, including album of the year for “Fearless” (Big Machine), her outstanding second record — the youngest artist ever to do so, and the first solo female country singer to earn that as well. It was the ultimate stamp of insider approval for someone who insists that she’s thrilled just to be invited to the party.

But the night also revealed her weaknesses. Her new single, “Today Was a Fairytale,” from the “Valentine’s Day” soundtrack, opened her performance, and it was limp, a parody of her best songs about teen love fantasy. That transitioned into a pitch-challenged duet of “Rhiannon” with Stevie Nicks, who then joined in — facing her own vocal challenges — on a banjolin-driven version of Ms. Swift’s “You Belong With Me.”

Ms. Swift is still young — she’s got teenage taste, some of it bad (Owl City, Boys Like Girls), some of it better (John Mayer) — and it’s refreshing to see someone so gifted make the occasional flub. Compare her with, say, Beyoncé, the night’s only bigger winner, who appears allergic to risk, or showing weakness.

But with every step Ms. Swift takes toward ubiquity, her facade must come undone a bit. The recent avalanche of disturbances dates back to the disruption of her acceptance speech by Kanye West at the MTV Video Music Awards in September. That was the first rupture: Ms. Swift held her composure, but the world assumed that she felt anger and frustration anyway and granted it to her, making her an unlikely David to Mr. West’s Goliath.

Suddenly Ms. Swift had texture. She was complex. In short, she became an adult. Not surprisingly, in the subsequent weeks, she was more of a tabloid presence than ever before. Her earlier entanglement with Joe Jonas had been handled gingerly and from a distance, but now Ms. Swift was fair game. She was part of a celebrity mega-feud and soon, reportedly, a celebrity mega-relationship, with the “Twilight” star Taylor Lautner. In November she won Entertainer of the Year, and three other prizes, at the Country Music Association Awards, confirming her breakthrough.

In this window came a more important milestone that passed with relatively little notice: Ms. Swift turned 20 in December. She’s no longer a teenager; soon, when she performs her anthems of young-love heartbreak, it’s going to appear as if she were carpetbagging.

And more important, she’ll almost certainly be 21 (or older) when she releases a new album that can’t now, by definition, have the same emotional guideposts as the previous ones. Success has altered how she’s perceived, but most of all, success breeds perspective, especially in someone as savvy and bright as Ms. Swift.

Ideally, what will emerge will be a new Ms. Swift, cut from whole cloth, with some gumption, some sass, some wisdom that the world has crueler foes than teenage boys. As a singer, the songs she’ll produce should be just as honest as the ones before them. And as a person, she should now be unafraid to share all the things she undoubtedly already knows but has been holding back. Her multitudes await.""

Like I said, she is not a great singer. Her voice on her albums can be and is touched up. Live she is no better than a decent karaoke singer.

As for the music label's CEO:“The facts say she is the undisputed best communicator that we’ve got," Borchetta said.

I wonder how much he paid for the lyrics. The middleman are out on the "streets" stealing the "material" and then they run back to their contacts in Nashville among other stops and I assume they pawn them off to the front people who "fit the song". Obviously fiftenn fits Swift. It wouldn't be one to go to fat Toby Keith - another con artist- as I allege.

***The good news: At 20, Taylor Swift has become the youngest-ever recording artist to win Grammy’s biggest prize, Album of the Year. She is now the only Nashville performer to win that prize with a solo album.

“Nashville is my favorite place in the world and to see it recognized in such a beautiful way makes me so happy,” Swift said backstage late Sunday night after being told that her big win came on the same night that Kings of Leon notched Nashville rock’s first best record win.

In all, Swift won four trophies at Sunday’s 52nd Annual Grammy Awards. After Fearless also won for Best Country Album, the singer-songwriter said, “I’m standing here accepting an impossible dream right now and I thank you so much for that.”

Now the bad news: The responses to that duet with Fleetwood Mac’s Steve Nicks have been harsh.

The genre-blending duet — on Nicks’ “Rhiannon” with Swift’s “You Belong With Me” — drew sharp reviews from critics, both professional and in the social networking and blogging world.

Ann Powers of the Los Angeles Times wrote that “Swift gave a strikingly bad vocal performance at Staples Center on Sunday, sounding tinny and rhythmically flat-footed as she shared the microphone with the distinctive Stevie Nicks.”

Chris Richards of The Washington Post wrote a piece that started with “A night in the charmed life of Taylor Swift: Give an incredibly wretched vocal performance, go on to win the biggest Grammy of 2010, anyway.”

The Tennessean’s Dave Paulson chimed in on a live blog: “Maybe a smidge of Jamie Foxx’s autotune wouldn’t be such a bad idea for this duet.”

Respected music industry blogger Bob Lefsetz first wrote that Fearless deserved to win album of the year, but then proffered that Swift might have single-handledly imperiled her career with this one Grammy performance: “How awful was she? Dreadful.”

Scott Borchetta, president and CEO of Swift's record label Big Machine Records, had this response late Monday night.

“The facts say she is the undisputed best communicator that we’ve got," Borchetta said. "So when she says something or feels something it affects more people than anybody else. Maybe she’s not the best technical singer, but she is the best emotional singer. Everybody gets up there and is technically perfect people don’t seem to want more of it. There’s not an artist in any other format that people want more of than they want of Taylor. I think (the critics) are missing the whole voice of a generation that is happening right in front of them. Maybe they are jealous or can’t understand that. But obviously the people that she talks to are engaged with her. No one is perfect on any given day. Maybe in that moment we didn’t have the best night, but in the same breath, maybe we did.”

A midday release announcing Swift’s awards noted that immediately after the Sunday show, Swift and her band “left for LAX, headed to Australia and Japan, where she will perform several sold-out shows before returning to the States to launch her FEARLESS 2010 tour March 4th in Tampa.”

CCP - I'm totally lost. I must have missed your earlier posts. Are you saying Taylor Swift somehow stole your songs? If so, why not just file an infringement suit? It costs you about $50 and all you need are your copyright registration numbers which you can retrieve directly from the Copyright Office in DC if you no longer have them. Very simply process.

Sooo....what shall we work out to today? How about something in an ODD TIME SIGNATURE so you can REALLY work on timing and that pesky predictability. Rhythms embedded within rhythms...imply one rhythm while really employing another...then strike. Ever wonder why sophisticated rhythmic structures were used in music typically considered primal, base, and un-developed? Now you know.

Just realized that my wording on the bit about complex rhythms came off as sounding at least a touch arrogant and "know-it-all".

My apologies in advance. Farthest thing from what I intended to convey. Just a pet theory is all.

To be more clear, I probably should have also included that the primal musics I was referring to are those that accompanied pre-fight rituals as well as rituals that simulate combat. This much is true (at least in some cultures), but whether or not the complex rhythmic structures were designed as a means of giving a fighter who employs said structures and advantage is not something I've ever seen any fighter, instructor, or musicologist discuss in any detail, and is certainly nothing I can prove.

It's just a pet theory that if you imply one rhythmic pattern and attack using another that stems from the first, you then posses a tactical (if extremely transient) advantage.

Those whose combat skills are superior mine (probably most of the folks here) are in a much better position to assess the value of such a theory.

SkinnyDevil,That is what I believe. The lyrics were taken out of our house.It is a long long story. I have been posting for years on this board and the previous message board Crafty and I were on. Unfortunately this has been ongoing for years and the people who are orchestrating this are master criminals who must have been in the music theft business (or in their families) for decades.As for Copyright my wife just noticed Copyrights missing out of the house and noticed that registrations that are in the Copyright Office have probably been switched. The people robbing us have been planning this for several years and may have recently succeeded on getting a half dozen songs (Katherine is not sure how many but this is her estimate). She wrote a few thousand songs so she has difficulty keeping track.

My wife registered multiple song lyrics under one registration title page (it varied but could be as many as 25 songs under one registration. The only thing that gets documented when registered is the title register page. IT will list that there are 25 songs but not the actual lyrics. The lyrics behind the total registration go into storage which has recently been moved over to Maryland. To have the proof of lyrics found one would have to request the CO pull the registartion in storage. There were numerous steps along the way and multiple people in the chain of custody so to speak. Anyone along the way could be bribed and apparantly do get bribed.There is virtually no chance the materials could be pulled, and viola, we would get evidence implication Toby Keith or anyone else at that level. It never happens. The crooks always seem to find a way to get the right stuff to disappear and get switched so another song is in the place of the one with the evidence. That is why it is so hard to catch anyone. The music and I am sure the whole entertainment business, as well as the book business is corrupt with intellectual property theft. Law enforcement is not interested and most people like us either don't even realized they were robbed or can't even sy how it is done so no one in law enforcement bothers.

The music industry and the middle men thieves appear to control what goes on at Copyright. Remember, no one is really watching what goes on in at the CR Office.

Indeed there are literally only a small number of people in the whole world who really know what goes on there. And legally they have final say on what and how documents get processed.

For example, we had one document pulled to have it brought to the main office and get a certified copy which definitely had evidence of a song that was done by some big name in the industry. Of course the copy we got did not have in it the right information. And the rest of our documentation was stolen from our house prior. It appeared the registration coming over from storage was taking longer than usual. We inquired why.

Well we were told that on the way from storage to the CRO the "truck" broke down and was in the repair shop - with those materials in it. Well gee what a coincidence.How much does it cost to bribe a truck driver to bring a truck into a repair shop. Who is going to even question this but us? How can anyone prove this wasn't anything more than a coincidence? Try telling law enforcement this. Even if they were willing to believe it they won't do a thing.So there you have it.

As an aside Shania Twain is coming out with a reality show to portray her efforts to make a comeback??? But I don't understand. She is the great singer songwriter?

She is this great creative musical talent with no less than a quarter of a billion dollars to her name. Yet she needs to show her efforts on a reality show?

The truth is it ain't Mutt Lange or her who came up with lyrics (I admit I don't know about the melodies).

The truth is she is not a creative talent. She couldn't write a song lyric to save her life. It is all a scam. They either have some of Katherine's lyrics or are awaiting to get the evidence on more and will show her pretending she writes the songs.

Why else? She is so great, she has so much money and so many connections she can't simply write songs and come out with them?

The excuse will be that without Mutt her talent is diminished. They were only good as they were when together. Toby Keith uses the same excuse, "my little song writing buddy" as he points to the silent side kick next to him in his band as a way of explaining why he couldn't write till he was in his late thirties. That explains why he suddenly became a genius.

CCP - Interesting story. I'm a bit confused as to why they would go to all the trouble & expense of theft (physical & otherwise) when it's cheaper and easier to pay a royalty. Did you piss someone off? How did they know Katherine was able to write?

Crafty - The second song (Steve Vai's "Attitude Song") has major sections in straight 4 (sometimes double-timed) and a cool polymetric approach over the main riff where the drums play a 4/4 behind the 7/8 guitar riff.

The first song (Tool's "Aenema") is a bit more bizarre. The song starts with a guitar riff that sound like a non-lilting 6/8 (or a 3/4 if you're inclined to stress the quarter) at one speed (the "illusion" to which I refer above), but then sounds like a shuffled 4/4 (12/8) when the drums enter (the "actual"). They do this by a rather complicated process (as opposed to using the 8th note as a pivot, as in a metric modulation). Some have argued that the song uses hemiola, but the guitar doesn't change it's phrasing or stress. It is simply rhythmic sleight of hand.

Of course, that's just the first 30 seconds (hahaha!). They continue their rhythmic explorations throughout the song (is that mid-section a slow 12 or a quick 3? Depends on your perception, as they give reason to hear it either way).

Frank Zappa liked that sort of rhythmic illusion, too, as well as others. You just don't often hear that sort of rhythmic complexity on the radio, (though a few songs by Led Zeppelin are good for rhythmic fun). You can get equally bizarre examples listening to certain traditional African musics, certain Latin musics, and even several 20th century classical composers who were influenced by & experimented with "primitivism".

As an aside, it's this rhythmic complexity that stops most people who cover old Robert Johnson songs from getting it right. Rory Block, however, does an amazing job. Check her version of Johnson's "Terraplane Blues" and dig those changes!

If I were in CA, we could chat for quite a while about poly-rhythms, poly-meters, metric modulations, & other more advanced rhymthic devices. I'm sure you are far more able to employ these ideas in a fight scenario than I.

Katherine always had a dream to be a singer. She went to Nashville in 1989. I met her in '92.She met some important people in the business. She even sat next to Willie Nelson who showed her how to eat lobster.

They suggested she open for Alabama but from what she tells me she may have gotten nervous. She told them she didn't have the songs. They said, don't worry we can get you the songs. She now states she didn't know they meant steal them.

In any case she didn't sleep with one or two people and they got mad.

I don't know all the details as I was not there. They knew she could write lyrics. She should one songwriter her songs and he thought they were good. But she told me years ago that he then asked her why she was showing him her songs. He warned her, never show anyone your songs. Not even your mamma. They will be stolen in a heartbeat.

We later learned he wasn't kidding. She believes they didn't rob her then because they liked her. In retrospect she recalls one of the men who liked her bringing her roses and she spurned him. Her mother who is a definite psycopath encouraged her not to speak to him. She can only guess that she pissed him off and that is why they have kept after her since.

We believe the reason that songwriters (the real ones don't get paid ) is that there is a whole network of middle men who appear controlled by someone or a few people who will not "let anyone" in the business without their ok.They appear to contol who gets on radio and the circuit.

As one guy who has a recording studio, Paul Harlyn in Celebration Fla. (aka Paul Biddles) said, the music business is kind of "clicky", if they like you they let you in. If they don't you may as well pack up your bags and go home.He moved to Celebration from Jersey City NJ for the purpose of hooking up with (and probably scamming) Katherine it is my belief.

She recorded three songs in his home studio. Since then the people robbing us have been trying to get them out of, or rearranged in the CRO. We believe they were set to be taken and sold to Shania Twain. Twain tells the story that she and her hsuband Mutt Lange were in a hotel and were writing songs and suddenly they realized they had all these "hits" and both just suddenly got so excited and "this was what they were waiting for". that was before she was famous and after her first album which was a total bomb.

Now if that doesn't sound ridiculous? You don't sit and write songs and *suddenly realize* you have all these hits and exclaim this is what we were waiting for! More like, the people who robbed Katherine showed up at the hotel with her stuff and showed Twain and Lange the goods who immediately saw its' potential and realized those were the potential hits they were waiting for and then proceeded to cut some sort of deal with the music lyrics thieves. Well I can tell you don't think Shania Twain is smart. She ain't.

As far as the melodies of her songs I don't know where they come from. Perhaps Lange really did come up with those. I don't know.

Been some time I visited this thread. That is some really interesting stuff, I believe I asked Guro Crafty a question about Music and Martial Arts. I dont even remember exactly what I asked but I think it would start an interesting thread. I don't quite understand all that you wrote about Ill have to look into it further but it sure is interesting! Definitely adding those two songs to my playlist!

Logged

"You see, it's not the blood you spill that gets you what you want, it's the blood you share. Your family, your friendships, your community, these are the most valuable things a man can have." Before Dishonor - Hatebreed

CCP - Sorry you've had such a bad experience. The industry is big and multi-faceted. I'm a professional musician (don;t hold it against me - hahaha!) and have not ever come across this sort of thing at all, but then I'm not in Nashville, either. Nor am I a country music artist. She can always write songs & start over, though.

Robert - A polymeter is when you simultaneously play 2 (or more) different meters, like Steve's 7/8 guitar riff while the drums are playing in 4/4 I mentioned. A polyrhtyhm is simultaneously playing 2 (or more) different rhythms (say, sub-dividing the beat by 2 for one, and sub-dividing the beat by 3 for the other). There are other relationships between rhythms that are just as much fun!

Check out the Robert Johnson song that Rory performs in the other video. Bizarre changes, but there is an underlying thread that attaches them.

.......There were great moments and odd moments in the Marriott Marquis ballroom. John Mayer, looking uncomfortable, appeared on stage to give Taylor Swift the Starlight Award for new young songwriter. He said, “We’re both like black swans,” and then rambled on about the two of them being unlike everyone else. He also said that even he asked her, “Who writes your songs?” Swift, still 19, gave a very relaxed speech, without using notes. She’s very poised. And she’s going to be around for a while."

John Mayer would know she didn't write the songs as she claimed. He didn't/doesn't write his either.

The Russian spy ring has features a lot like what I and Katherine go through with the people who have moved in our neighborhood. There are several of them. Same thing. They blend in with the neighbors raise their kids act like they are just law abiding citizens paying the bills like everyone else. All the while they watch our mail box, watch the house wait for any opportunity to get in, watch anyone who comes into the house, such as work men etc. Then approach those people if they think they can bribe them to serve a useful purpose for the next time they come into the house. We were recently robbed again of jewelry this way.The power of the bribe is unfortunately and sadly totally unstoppable. I am not aware of anyone who doesn't seem to be able to be bribed so it seems.

What did Bamster call it? "The culture of the birbe" when speaking of other countries? Sad truth is it is a way of life everwhere including here.

So neighbors and friends of the spy ring are stunned about the Russian spying. All I can say to them is they have learned a good lesson in life from this.As I have myself over the last ten years.

This morning as I leave the house I see a large dump truck next to our back yard fence gate with guy sitting there reading paper, our "neighbor" who is a plant sitting on her porch like she does off and on all day everyday smoking her cigarette on the other side of house, new guy who just moved in standing in his driveway directly next to our house, pickup truck from guy named Mcyintire who I have found following me, his vehicle is registered to son who moved in the house three doors down. He doesn't live there he lives 30 minutes away but the truck is registered to the son. they moved out from Brooklyn . They *all* moved in after us.

They were hoping to get in the house after I leave and if Katherine lets out the dogs in our yard and by accident leaves the back door unattended even for minutes.

They will know exactly where in our house to go, understand from monitoring us the time needed to do what they need to do, and sit and wait, and have all the people in the scam in place. They will get in the house, take what they want and leave no obvious trace. The only thing(s) missing will be related to songs, lyrics, copyrights, documents related to Fidelity trading scam where they were robbing Katherine by some insider at the trading desk or at Fidelity.

I don't know who is the one calling the shots behind all these low level bozos who are being dircted by someone who is a professional crook who does this for a living for the music industry middle men. I am told the big guys corporate execs at sony, disney, Gaffner etc. are not directly doing this. They are reportedly just looking the other way. I am not so sure. But that is what some have told me.

I have been told there is an Irish Mafia that has a group that does this as well as the Italians. The Blacks in music of course are all associatecd with the drug gangs.

It is obvious to us that when there is something they *must* get in our house we see more and more obvious people wlaking dogs, smoking cigarettes, parking in the Chruch lot next to our house. We get offers for service, like a plumber who is offering low rates (just while we happen to need one), left on our door, on the local cable station, the neigbhors two doors down, the Flanagens had a miad crew come in driving the exact same model '95 black Caddy I used to drive. Not only that after a slid on ice and crack into a sign pole causing a dent in the front, so did their car later show a dent almost exactly the same location as mine. I suspect they were going to park it where I usually park my car and make it look like it was me at my house while they were in the house.

A nice post on powerline over the weekend about one of my guitar heroes. Unlike CCP's experience, Garcia always gave credit to his lyricist and to the original writers of the songs he performed even though he normally changed the songs musically to his liking. The song below is from BB King. -------http://www.powerlineblog.com/archives/2010/08/026895.php

Today is the anniversary of Jerry Garcia's birth and an appropriate occasion to remember his contribution to American popular music. Garcia made his mark as a musician and songwriter with the Grateful Dead, but at heart he remained an unreconstructed devotee of folk, bluegrass and country music. He had an encyclopedic knowledge of folk music in particular. Garcia's devotion to traditional American music was the source of the Dead's commercial breakthrough with the beautiful Workingman's Dead and American Beauty albums in 1970 .

Garcia's inventive work with the Dead on electric guitar is well known; less so is his work on acoustic guitar with mandolin virtuoso David Grisman. Garcia had a long friendship with Grisman dating back to 1964 based on their mutual love of bluegrass music. Garcia recruited Grisman to make a key instrumental contribution to American Beauty. In the mid-1970's Garcia joined forces with Grisman in the bluegrass ensemble Old and In the Way.

Garcia and Grisman continued recording together mostly for fun over the years. In the atmospheric video below they play an acoustic version of B.B. King's "The Thrill is Gone." In his biography of Garcia, Blair Jackson quotes the director of the video (the son of one of the Dead's drummers) regarding Garcia: "We cut his hair, put him in a suit and tie, and had him there for twelve hours." The director quotes Garcia saying, "I'd never do this for the Grateful Dead, never in a million years."

Garcia died of a massive heart attack at age 53 in 1995 while in treatment for a nasty heroin habit. Jackson suggests that Garcia was persuaded to enter treatment because of the toll his habit was taking on his health and his playing. The devastation wrought by drugs on so many talented musicians of the 1960's is a story that remains to be told.

My first date with Katherine was to a BBKing concert in WPB, Fla.After over a decade of getting our lives destroyed by music thieves my/and her enchantment with anything to do with music is, well let's just say, the "thrill is gone". She now realizes she was getting robbed almost certainly all the way back to ~1989. The year she was in Nashville.

BBK has broken through. Many of the other old time Black musicians have their own long stories about how they were treated like garbage and left to rot.

Usually when they start telling you the "story" behind the lyrics it is because the person didn't write it and it is pure BS to cover it. The rush out of the song is very suspicious. Often they rush it out because it is stolen or has been stolen not by downloaders but by the middle men. As soon as they get the evidence they throw it out there. Delays in singers coming out with their albums are because they can't steal the evidence. They will not do a song if the real writer hass evidence. They will wait days, weeks, months or even years. That it why it is so rare to hear in the news when anyone gets caught. And then there is a behind the scenes deal or they work on stealing the evidence as it comes forward and we never hear in the nuews anything about it again.

In any case I will look forward to seeing the lyrics. Taylor Swift is really Taylor little shit.Every day lately there are people sitting outside our house. Today one guy was sitting in a SUV in front of the house next to us. Hey it is only 90 degrees. After I passed him twice he finally dirves away. Later some guy in a small truck again sitting out facing our back door for no obvious reason until he left after I watched him for five minutes. Meantime Katherine's computer keeps crashing while they buy time.

Big Machine RecordsThe lyrics to Taylor Swift's new song, 'Mine,' give fans a glimpse into her love life that you'll only hear her sing about. In a webchat held last week, the 20-year old superstar told fans she won't discuss her personal life in interviews, but she "definitely sings about it," especially on her upcoming album 'Speak Now,' set for release on October 14.

Taylor's management team announced on August 4 that they rushed 'Mine,' the album's first single, to iTunes and country radio after "an unauthorized low-quality mp3 file of the single appeared online earlier today. As the low-quality file started to spread virally the decision was made to rush release 'Mine' to iTunes and Country radio to ensure that Taylor's fans were able to hear the single as she intended."

During the webchat, Taylor also told fans that she didn't use co-writers for the songs on her upcoming album because most of the lyric ideas came to her late at night on her Fearless tour. She also shared the very personal story behind what led her to write 'Mine.'

It's a song that is about my tendency to run from love. It's sort of a recent tendency.

For me, every really direct example of love I have had in front of me has ended in goodbye and has ended in break ups. So I think I've developed this pattern of running away when it is time to fall in love and stay in a relationship.

This song is about finding the exception to that and finding someone who would make you believe in love and realize that it could work out. I'm never, ever going to go past hoping that love can work out. I'm always going to be very hopeful and blindly optimistic when it comes to love even if it does seem like it's very hard.

Tune in to Aol Radio's Top Country radio station, where 'Mine' is playing in heavy rotation, here.****

This AM John Rich was on TV saying he has so many songs that he doesn't know what to do with them all. They will never get to radio so if anyone wants them for "free" one can go to his website. I don't know what songs he is talking about but Gretchen Wilson another alleged liar stated he had hundreds of songs.

There is something totoally dishonest about his claim this AM.

Folks, take it from me. This guy I alledge is a gigantic crook. He does not have the evidence from Katherine to do the songs (if they are hers). Or, he cannot come up with the melodies. I hope they aren't Katherine's. I hope for his reputation they are not.

This guy wound never give away songs. It is ludicrous to think he would give them away. I would NOT/NEVER go this site. YOu risk getting viruses from him or he and the criminals who do the actual stealing will find out who you are. This would be one way to search and find people who do write so they can see if they are any good and then rip them off.

All these music lyrics contests are offered for the same purpose. Give me a break. There are so many dozens and dozens of these singer/songwriter geniuses they are suddenly quiet and without content? Suddenly they are holding song writing contests?

Folks never believe any of these hucksters that they are "giving" away anything to you. It is just the opposite.

I know the sound of this band isn't anything new but its kind of refreshing.

Yeah I could go back and listen to the music that inspires these guys but I'm really diggin this album.

Logged

"You see, it's not the blood you spill that gets you what you want, it's the blood you share. Your family, your friendships, your community, these are the most valuable things a man can have." Before Dishonor - Hatebreed

Writer Bill Wyman--no relation to the Stones' bassist--channels a Mick Jagger response to Keith Richards' new book. An interesting piece of writing:

Please Allow Me To Correct a Few ThingsMick Jagger responds to Keith Richards about his new autobiography.

By Bill WymanPosted Friday, Nov. 5, 2010, at 7:15 AM ETEditor's note: On a recent morning, the journalist Bill Wyman received a UPS package containing a typed manuscript. On reading it, he saw that it seemed to be the thoughts, at some length, of singer Mick Jagger on the recently published autobiography of his longtime songwriting partner in the Rolling Stones, Keith Richards. A handwritten note on an old piece of Munro Sounds stationery read: "Bill: For the vault. M."

From this, Wyman surmised that the package was intended for Jagger and Richards' former bandmate, the bassist Bill Wyman, who has assiduously overseen the band's archives over the past five decades and with whom Wyman the journalist coincidentally shares the same name. Wyman the journalist, a longtime rock critic, was once threatened with a cease-and-desist letter from Wyman the bassist's Park Avenue attorneys and felt no compunction about perusing the contents of the package. The manuscript he received is reprinted below.

I am, I see here, marginally endowed, if I read Keith's sniggering aright. I do not sing well, either. I am not polite to employees; indeed, I have even been known to say, "Oh, shut up, Keith," in band meetings. I do not appreciate the authenticity of the music or the importance of what we do. I want to "lord it over" the band, like James Brown. I am "insufferable." I slept with Anita.

Most of that is in just the first quarter of this overlong book, but a tattoo of my failings sounds all through it and culminates in almost 20 full pages of rambling invective near the end.

I don't mind this, really, for reasons I hope are understandable and will get into later. This is all from a guy pushing 70 for whom gays are still "poofters" and women "bitches." I think so many things about Keith. We were close, the two of us, for many years. We had known each other in grade school, if you can believe it, in the same undistinguished eastern suburb. Then we bumped into each other in a train station at 18 or so and started talking about the blues. We were different; I'd already been on TV with my father, who was a fairly notable expert on physical education at the time. Keith was … rougher, let's say. For the next nearly 10 years, we were rarely apart. Even after we were famous, we lived at each others' flats or houses. We were still very young, and, like puppies, we'd cluster together.

We were barely a band before our lives changed, but I think still of the time we spent, squalidly, before we were a group, in a very cold and small flat, more filthy than you can imagine. Our flatmate Jimmy Phelge was a veritable comic virtuoso with a pair of soiled underwear. Certainly we—I—wanted to be famous, but can I point out our road to it was not absurd, exactly, but unthinkable, in the sense that we couldn't even imagine a way to do it? The London music scene was entirely insignificant, and we didn't even play the trad jazz (Charlie's métier), which dominated.

Still, we practiced day and night out of some unspoken impetus, innocent suburban boys abruptly living quite near the edge of a dark milieu. This brings me to Brian, who played guitar very well and was a brittle devil. We knew that because of many things, not least that he spent an inappropriate amount of time beating up his girls in the next room. I'm not proud of that. Keith gives himself (too much, I think) credit for rescuing Anita, eventually, from Brian; but that of course was years later. Earlier, we both listened to or watched his cruelty, in the bedroom and elsewhere; we paid no attention to the half-dozen kids he'd fathered and ignored the savagery he accomplished on tour. We didn't know better; we were priapic jackals ourselves, fucking even one another's girlfriends if they got left, as it were, unattended. But it was wrong to have let Brian do that, and Keith should have owned up to this in the book.

I supposed it is a karmic justice for Brian that we continued to watch as he descended from there to hell, harried by the police and increasingly incapacitated artistically, which further estranged him from us. Oh, that's not true; we didn't just watch. We ushered him along, ridiculing him, you might say, to death as he began to lose his ability to contribute. Again, we were young. What were you doing at 25? We didn't know about depression, insanity, addiction, or what acid might have done to him. It's unclear to me whether the drugs diminished his ability to contribute or whether the drugs were in effect a way to cover up something that wasn't there. The first song Keith and I wrote was a hit single; Brian couldn't write a song to save his life, literally. And let's remember that he was a total asshole.

I'm digressing but I'm trying to explain where we came from. We didn't have a template. Nothing against Steven Tyler, but there's a difference. We felt around in the dark; we were famous within weeks; and, in the end, we left a body or two behind us. We did these things, good and bad, together; we were friends.

The second important thing is Keith's talent. We took it for granted, in a way, as he says. We felt it was our duty to get together and write a song, one good song each day we worked. He is kind to say I could take what he gave me and run with it. But he is the one who gave me the actual song to write the lyrics to. He wrote a dozen Top 10 hits in five years, and, after the band added Mick Taylor and essentially grew up, he wrote most of Beggars Banquet and Let It Bleed. Again: What were you doing at 25? It's interesting to me how no previous song we'd recorded would have a respectable place on those albums; and any song on them would have seem out of place even on Aftermath or Between the Buttons. Keith's lurch forward was amazing. As a pure rock (not folk or pop) songwriter, I think he is not just without peer. I think he is unrivaled in depth and growth, from "As Tears Go By" to "Satisfaction" to "Jumping Jack Flash" to, I don't know, "Gimme Shelter. " "Monkey Man." "Street Fighting Man." The primal feel of the chording. The musicality of the intros and breaks. The innovation of the recording—cruder, no doubt, but I will argue far more emotionally powerful than the Beatles'. The winding, intermixed guitars he almost desperately loved. Without him, what would I have been? Peter Noone? It is hard to use a word like integrity about a band as compromised, as self-bloodied, as we were. But for some years, unlike any other group, the Beatles included, we declared war on that silly, hypocritical, repressive, and arbitrary society in which we lived. The only ammunition we had were Keith's songs. The lyrics, I confess now, may have been in their defiance just épater la bourgeoisie and in their poesy derivatively Zimmerman-esque. Even when they weren't, no one would have paid attention if the chords weren't arresting, irrefutable. The songs spoke primarily through their music, not their words. Keith's doting fans nattering on about the ultimate avatar of rock 'n' roll authenticity irritate me, it's true; but he may to this day be underappreciated.

So those two things I think, are important. Our bond; his talent. We blink at that point, and go 40 years forward, and he has written a book that says, essentially, that I have a small dick. That I am a bad friend. That I am unknowable.

The reviewers, who idolize Keith, don't ask why this is all in here. We have rarely spoken of such things publicly, and tangentially even then. We don't talk about it in private, either, and, no, he hasn't been in my dressing room in 20 years. I thought we both learned that there is no point in sharing anything at all with the press, save a few tidbits for the upbeat The Stones are back in top rocking form! article that accompanies each of our tours. I think Keith never appreciated the tedious hours I had to spend with Jann Wenner to accomplish that.

But I know why it is all here.

In the book we get the stories.

Oh, the stories. The rock, the girls. The car wrecks, the arrests. You read them on the printed page, delivered in what, I must admit, is a pretty fair written representation of Keith's slightly tangential, drawling, effeminate delivery, resting charmingly just this side of the incomprehensible.

I was generally made familiar with the stories in a different context. They were generally related by an assistant or a lawyer, tour manager or a publicist, poking their head into a room. Keith's disappeared. Keith's asleep backstage and can't be roused for the show. No one will wake him because he keeps a loaded gun under his pillow and grabs it and points when riled. Keith fell asleep in the studio again. No, Keith isn't mixing the album. He flew off to Jamaica, and, no, we don't know when he will be back. Keith's asleep. Keith's asleep. Keith's asleep.

The scamp. Those are but one tier, and a fairly innocuous one, of the many times I was vouchsafed news of my partner. The next tier is more colorful. Keith (or his favorite sax player/drug runner/drug buddy/hanger-on) has slugged a photographer/destroyed a hotel room/gotten into a fistfight with the locals/fallen into a coma. Oh, yes, and the police are here. (Because police are whom you want backstage at a rock concert or at a recording studio.)

Or: The bandmate Keith personally vouched for is freebasing again. This last was of some interest to me, because it meant that I got to sing at a stadium backed by not one but two guitarists falling over onstage. Keith likes to talk a lot about his getting clean from heroin. It is not correspondingly apprehended that he replaced the heroin comprehensively with liquor. Given a choice I select the slurring alcoholic over the comatose junkie as a lifelong professional partner, and I say this with some knowledge of the two alternatives. But neither is strictly desirable.

And, yes, they do fall over onstage. (Or asleep on a chair in the studio.) I laugh at it now and blame no one but myself. Why, Keith gave me his "personal guarantee" Woody would not be freebasing on tour.

And yet I was surprised when it happened. I take the point that professionalism, one's word, rock 'n' roll merriment … these are fungible things in our world. It is a fair charge that I have become less tolerant in these matters over the decades. In our organization, inside this rather unusual floating circus we call home, I am forced into the role of martinet, the one who gets blamed for silly arbitrary rules. (Like, for a show in front of 60,000 people for which we are being paid some $6 or $7 million for a few hours' work, I like to suggest to everyone that we start on time, and that we each have in place a personal plan, in whatever way suits us best, to stay conscious for the duration of the show.)

So I will take that point. All of the forgoing was just … a little outré behavior on tour. Let's go to the next tier—again, of matters one is informed of with some regularity, this not over months, not years, but entire decades. Keith's been arrested with a mason jar full of heroin and a shopping bag full of other drugs and drug paraphernalia and is charged with drug trafficking. That was his baggage for a weekend in Toronto. It is hard to play a show with a catatonic guitarist, harder still when he is in jail for 10 years. I won't even get into the fact that this came right when I had every record label in the world fighting to sign us, and in an instant my negotiating power was vaporized. Here's a baroque bulletin from the archives: Anita's 17-year-old boyfriend has accidentally shot himself, in Keith's house—Keith's bedroom—with a gun Keith left lying around. Young Marlon, then perhaps 10, saw Anita, covered in blood, coming down the stairs distraught, and God knows it could have been Marlon playing with the gun. Or: Keith's driven his car off the road (again) with Marlon inside (again). In his book Keith stands back, amazed at the things that just … happen to him. He is frequently the victim of faulty wiring in the hotels in which we bivouac; a surprising number of times this phenomenon has caused fires. Ritz-Carltons are not built the way they use to be, I guess. Redlands burned down a couple of times as well, as did a house he was renting in Laurel Canyon. It's a wonder Marlon survived his childhood. A third child Keith disposed of by sending her off to his mum back in Dartford I to raise. The second? That was another son, who was left with his paranoid, unstable, heroin-addict mother and didn't make it past infancy. Keith says he blames himself, and on that at least I think we can agree.

It is said of me that I act above the rest of the band and prefer the company of society swells. Would you rather have had a conversation with Warren Beatty, Andy Warhol, and Ahmet Ertegun … or Keith, his drug mule Tony, and the other surly nonverbal members of his merry junkie entourage? Keith actually seems not to understand why I would want my dressing room as far away as possible from that of someone who travels with a loaded gun. And for heaven's sake. No sooner did Keith kick heroin than Charlie took it up. In the book Keith blames me for not touring during the 1980s. I was quoted, unfortunately, saying words to the effect of "the Rolling Stones are a millstone around my neck." This hurt Keith's feelings. He thinks it was a canard flung from a fleeting position of advantage in my solo career, the failing of which he delights in. He's not appreciating the cause and effect. Can you imagine going on tour with an alcoholic, a junkie, and a crackhead? Millstone wasn't even the word. I spent much of the 1980s looking for a new career, and it didn't work. If I had it to do over again I would only try harder.

When I came back I resolved to do at least something well. Which brings us to money. We did not entirely mismanage our career in the 1960s, save for the calamity of signing with Allen Klein, who, with fatal strokes of our pens, obtained the rights and total control of our work throughout the 1960s. It was my responsibility. Keith downplays this, but the fact is we signed the thief's papers. It was all done legally. Klein was a Moriarity, truly; he didn't wait to sign us to steal. The signing was the theft, a product of a scheme so encompassing that in the end, he paid us a pittance and walked off with our songs. This is by far the single most important nonmusical event in our history, and yet it is rarely remarked on. I was not 30 and had lost us a historic treasure.

In the 1970s, we worked very hard, and with Some Girls we eventually sold a lot of records, but in reality you couldn't make much money back then, even touring. In the early 1970s we might play for a period of, say, two months, 10,000- and 20,000-seat halls at $6 or $10 a ticket. Back then, we were lucky to take half the gross home. You do the math. Then take out expenses and manager and lawyer fees ... and split the remainder five ways. Nor did we live frugally. It got better over the decade, and Keith and I had the songwriting, of course, but compare us with Paul or Elton during the 1970s (who outsold us by many times, for starters, and among other things did not split their income with anyone) and our fame was entirely inconsistent with our back accounts.

In 1981, I put us in stadiums and charged a more reasonable tariff and might have made us more money that summer than we'd earned in our entire career up to that point. And I've done it several times since—each time, I mean, to be precise, literally earning close to as much as we had the previous 30 or 40 years in total, including those previous tours. The Bigger Bang outing grossed more than $588 million—more than a million dollars a day for 18 months—and we pocketed the lion's share of it. If the promoters didn't like it they could raise price of the nachos, or the parking. And I'm not even mentioning the sponsorships, the ticket fees, the merchandise …

I sound, now, like the accountant who earns my bandmates' jeers. But I don't remember Keith complaining about these sums, or, incidentally, that it took me 20 years to remember to give Ronnie a full share, just as we both pretended not to hear when Mick Taylor, or Ronnie, asked for credit for songs they'd written.

Does Keith really sigh for the good old days on tour? Shabby theaters, shitty sound? Wound-up kids standing for hours in the hot summer sun in dreadful mid-American cities waiting for a chance to race recklessly for general-admission seats? Us enduring a day of hassle and travel to take home perhaps $3,500 each? I remember Keith asleep or not showing up until hours after the scheduled start time. Our feral fans running, fighting, throwing rocks at police. Today, the shows start promptly, there are video screens for the folks in the back, and we offer $1,000-a-seat ducats for the fat cats.

Here's the thing: I'm a rock star. What is the measure of my success if not the biggest rock and roll tour of all time?

I know what you're thinking. It's what Keith thinks, too.

What about the music. Isn't it all, in the end, about the music?

I must note that the Stones rarely get a bad review, no matter how poor our albums. (Jann again, and so many wannabe Janns; how is it that we somehow manage, again and again, to record our "best album since Some Girls"?)

But let me ask you to imagine yourself, as I was, unimaginably, partnered with the writer of "Satisfaction," "Paint It Black," "19th Nervous Breakdown," "Honky Tonk Woman," etc. And then imagine that your partner, seemingly overnight, lost some essential part of his talents.

Not, as is commonly supposed, sometime perhaps in the 1980s, when the Rolling Stones' decline in creativity was on obvious display, but earlier. A lot earlier. Like, say, 1972 at the latest.

Those who like Exile on Main St. like its denseness, its mystery, its swampy commitment. Accidentally and amid no little chaos, we conjured up something dirty, impenetrable, and, in parts, compelling. But I think its murk promises depths that aren't there. There are decent but no major songs on Exile. Let's go back an album, to Sticky Fingers. I wrote "Brown Sugar." Mick Taylor wrote "Sway" and most of "Moonlight Mile," and made "Can't You Hear Me Knocking" his own. Keith and I together did most of the rest, like "Wild Horses," but, in the end, he didn't write most of the thing's best songs.

From there, there's Exile. Some nice tracks— "Rocks Off," "Happy"—but there is no "Gimme Shelter" or "Let It Bleed." Chords that once threatened society in some significant now way rarely radiated outward.

The next few years were difficult. I don't want to say Keith wrote no songs. He did. But successively, in each album, the process became more difficult, as both his capacity for the job declined along with the quality of what he did write. He mocks the disco songs—"Hot Stuff," "Miss You," "Emotional Rescue." But what would the commercial impact of those albums have been without those immediate hits? We were being outsold by everyone from Supertramp to the Doobie Brothers as it was. At the same time I had to come up with tracks and weasel promising material out of our cohort and not give up songwriting credit, which I accomplished in all but one or two cases.

The resulting albums are, with perhaps the exception of Some Girls, flaccid and unconvincing. The aforementioned disco hits. A little lyrical naughtiness ("Starfucker," "Some Girls"). The earnest ballad in which the incorrigible Stones display some unexpected touches of maturity ("Memory Motel," "Waiting on a Friend"). Lots and lots of undistinguished filler, clavinet playing by Billy Preston, Motown covers … And for some of the good stuff Keith wasn't even there. For It's Only Rock and Roll I did the title single with Woody and Bowie. Taylor and I constructed the splendid "Time Waits for No One," a fantasia, alluring to this day, for percussion, piano, and guitar. (I don't think Keith has ever let us play it live.) ("Sway," either.)

I will testify that Keith was intermittently sentient during some part of the recording of Some Girls. Yes we were fully Manhattanized at this point, because I live here and that's what I found interesting. The geographic location of Keith's talent, being nowhere, wasn't available for evocation.

By the time of Tattoo You I was exhausted. Entirely drained of ideas. I told Chris Kimsey to ransack the archives. "Start Me Up" was a very old song, with some 20, 30, 40 takes as a reggae ... and one with a real rock guitar. It turned out to be our last real hit, and the arc of our career would look a lot different if we hadn't found it. With it, we could plausibly least claim to be hitmakers in the 1980s. "Waiting on a Friend," that symbol of our new-found maturity, was, if memory serves, from a centuries-old session with me and Mick Taylor. About our work from the rest of the 1980s and 1990s, the less said the better. Can you sing a single chorus from Dirty Work? Name a single track? We certainly don't play songs from those records in concert if we can help it.

I go into such detail to describe the arc of our decline accurately but also note this sad corollary: Keith brought something out of me, way back when. Through Exile, I felt I had to rise to his songs. When he checked out creatively, I lost something important. While there is some spark, I guess, in "Some Girls" or "Shattered" or whatever, however contrived, I know most of the other songs sucked. In the 1980s and '90s it got worse. I could conjure up only the most banal cliché or the most pretentious polysyllabic nonsense. Compare "Sympathy for the Devil" with "Heartbreaker." One Godard made a film about. The other is a TV movie. I literally wrote a song called "She's So Cold" and then, a few years later, one called "She Was Hot."

Now, Keith went through the same thing. I think this is why Keith lost himself with heroin and now drinks: to stave off the pressure to match himself and dull the knowledge that he can't any more (and, back then, couldn't). It's trite, maybe, but there's a reason a guy spends a decade in a haze, and the three decades since in a stupor. Keith's rancor is almost entirely based on the fact that it was not, in the end, easy to keep the appearances of what in the public mind is the Rolling Stones, and the process wasn't always pretty. But I did it, and, among other things, to this day it is hardly in the public mind that Keith Richards hasn't written a significant rock 'n' roll song in nearly 35 years.

For that I get Keith's book.

Why did he write it? Or, rather, having decided to write it all down, why did he devote so much of it to carping about me?

Well, he's not talking about me, really. He's just trying to get my attention, I think, in the end. The remaining part of the rancor comes from the fact that he knows he lost me, many years ago. It's funny—Keith doesn't write good rock songs much any more, but what he does do, every four or five years, is craft a beautiful little ballad. Since Tattoo You Keith's written and sung a couple of tracks per album. (We had a huge fight about his putting three on Bridges to Babylon; I didn't like it, but didn't have anything else to offer, even with three years since the previous album. Why one of the songs I did write is now co-credited to k.d. lang is a matter to be discussed on some other day. ) Generally, one of these is a throwaway, and the other ... is something gorgeous. Put them all together along with songs he wrote solo and sang from the early years—"You Got the Silver," "Happy," and so forth, all the way up to "Thru & Thru" and "All About You"—and you have a CD of no little power and emotion. (I've done it.)

These songs are more honest than his book. In "The Worst," he says something about "I'm the worst kind of guy/ For you to be around." That's a song that might ring true for many people. It makes me think about how Keith lost me only after I lost him. In an older song, he explains a worldview I find a bit disturbing, and I would like to point out that since from most peoples' perspective I have flirted the edge of total decadence my entire life I can make that observation with some authority:

Slipped my tongue in someone else's pie Tasted better every time She turned green and tried to make me cry Being hungry Ain't no crime

Again, the honesty is bracing. I think Keith puts just about any of his manifold urges on a par with hunger, and I think we can agree the world would be a dangerous place if that was the norm. It explains many, many of his actions over the years. In the book he tells the story of going to meet Patti Hansen's parents for the first time—drunk, holding an open bottle of Jack, and with one of his fucktard friends in tow. You can imagine how the evening ended. I'm sure Keith thinks it's OK. ("Being nervous ain't no crime.") ("Oh, shut up, Keith," I think.) With that perspective—and the added benefit of being rich and famous and having most of his deplorable actions do nothing but burnish his image—Keith's way in the world has been, in a certain way and ignoring, for the moment, the people who died, a blessed one.

I certainly bless it. I stood by him and propped him up and didn't fire his ass for many, many years. It would have ended the Stones, of course, so maybe I was being selfish. In a way, even comatose he had a marquee name; as my meal ticket, you might say, it suited me to let him doze. I took the reins until, when he finally woke up, he found that he had no place in the management. He's angry about that, too. Yes, let's let Keith Richards have a hand in overseeing an operation that generates $1 million a day in revenue. I don't know what else I could have done. Later, one grows older and becomes more informed about such things, and I saw I was supposed to have held an elaborate ceremony called an "intervention." Society could have effectively halted the upheavals of the 1960s simply by requiring all of us to "intervene" with one another. In any event, considering half our circle was on heroin and the rest were coke fiends, I think it wouldn't have efficacious in our circumstances.

He talks about me, too, in his solo songs, less subtly: "I'm so sick and tired/ Of hanging around/ Jerks like you." People ask me why I let him put these on the album. I think: Oh, why not? It's a great song, and he can sing it, and he can write the book, too. He's trying to get my attention. To connect. To have it be how it once was. At our age, I think there's no basis for it. Keith celebrates his own unchanging character, and I have had quite enough of that.

But, still, when I think of Keith, I think sometimes of how someone different from the book comes out through these songs. Once in a great while he detaches and looks down at his corporeal self. "I think I lost my touch," he sings on one of them; "It's just another song and it's slippin' away." Rock and roll is strange. When a song is beautiful—those spare guitars rumbling and chiming, by turns—the words mean so much more, and there, for a moment, I believe him, and feel for him.

Or I think about "How Can I Stop" which may end up being Keith's last great song.

"How can I stop … once I start?" he murmurs, over and over again. "How can I stop once I start?"

It's about rock 'n' roll, of course, and playing guitar, and his tenure, and mine, in our unusual coalition. It's also about heroin and everything else he can't stop ingesting. But again it's about Keith himself, who once started never did stop—through the fame, the songs, the concerts and the women and the drugs; and the violence and senselessness, the addictions and the deaths, the ruined lives, the petty and large-scale cruelties. At the end Keith got Wayne Shorter to do a sax solo that is itself almost an out-of-body experience, perhaps the loveliest moment on one of our records. It goes on and on over the last two minutes of a very long track, and the end is almost a … an exaltation, perhaps? I am lost there. It's something I'm not sure I ever saw evidenced in real life, and something that isn't in his book. It's the sound—or at least the closest thing Keith Richards will ever admit to it—of a conscience.

Katherine and I were one of the first ones to move into Celebration, the town that Disney built. We moved there from South Florida because we thought it would be a pleasant place to live and since Katherine is visually impaired (legally blind) it would be ideal for to be able to walk to destinations, make friends and maybe a good investment.

Well it was anything but wonderful life. Our house was wired, our internet connections were controlled, our phone was tapped, we had bugs in placed in the house, our neighbors were bribed to watch for when we left the house, we rented a small efficiency behind our house over the garage to a number of tenants all of whom were plants to rob us, our mail carriers would screw up delivery of our mail so crooks could surveillance it and if needed steal or manipulate copyrights sent to and from the COpyright Office, bank employees were bribed to get in our safety box, new gardners came into town and were immediately doing all our neighbors lawns so they could have access to wireless devices and be near our house, at least once we had three people wearing exterminator outfits like the one we used show up at our porch even though the company denied anyone was sent and they never sent three people at once, our neighbors never saw a thing, though one did admit she didn't know how we could stand it, and would have committed suicide by then. A neighbor moved in from Alabama who appeared to have bribed the garbage man to drop off our garbage at his house which was a few houses down his run, we would be watched while we walked our dogs and someone would be going through our house, Katherine's uncle was biribed, her mother, an 80 yo "friend" of hers who I made the mistake of trusting and letting stay in our house, we had a computer phD come into the house (worst mistake of all) and let him have access to all our computers thinking he was looking for evidence for us while instead he was rigging our systems and erasing all evidence, painters painting just the back of our neighbors house for several days in an attempt to wait for us to leave the house (walk the dogs, etc) so they could run in and take whatever they wanted, on the other side of us a guy and girl were doing some yard work and I say a straight stick in the very center of my driveway appearing as some sort of signal that our house was the target house, when I turned my back and went upstairs in our efficiency Katherine could hear the girl screaming to the guy to "get it, get it" right outside a window on the side of our house and Katherine called me and by the time I was able to see what they were doing these two characters were on other side of the the house next to us as though nothing happened.

Our gardner was eventually bribed. I remember Katherine telling me he was stunned when he saw a sherriff's car come aruond the corner and look exactly at the two of them speaking and immediately turn around and go back the other way. Even he was startled and siad "did you see that, that was weird".Eventually he was bribed and possibly intimidated (he had a dirt bike accident) and turned not so nice to us and was obviously going around looking for windows he or his new empolyee could get into. I could go on. These stories are only a small part of what was done to us in Disney's little town. all the while Disney was making money off her lyrics, Lou Perlman was making money off them, Paul Bittles Harlyn KIng or which ever name you want to use was also doing the same. Even one of our tenants, a pyschopath, Joe (a gay waiter at one of the Disney restaurants) said "everyone in Orlando is making money off your songs but you"!

Rascall Flatts got famous as did countless other pop and country singers many of whom are also suddenly going by the phrase "singersongerwriter".There was lyric streets dot com that has finally gone out of business, Sony Nashville was established with a catelogue of Katherine's song lyrics.

Yes Celebration was supposed to be a dream town. It was our worst nightmare. I was warned that leaving the state would not make this problem go away. These kind of criminals will easily follow us around. He was absolutely right. The exact same thing is happening to us in NJ. Our house is totally wired.

We have been and are terrorized. OUr lives has become a living hell. All because Katherine is a genius talent at writing ready to go sellable music lyrics. The music industry is criminal from top to bottom. Does anyone care? Short answer - NO at all. I learned anyone can be bribed. Any one who thinks otherwise is a fool.

There is and had been crime in Celebration. Disney used to cover it up to avoid the negative publicity. ONe PI hired to investigate a rape was told by witnesses they were instructed not to speak. Mickey Mouse my ass.

****Disney town sees death for 2nd time in week

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Dec 3, 6:50 AM (ET)

CELEBRATION, Fla. (AP) - Authorities were investigating another death Friday in the town Disney built just days after reporting its first homicide in its 14-year existence. This time it was a man who apparently killed himself after shooting at deputies.

Craig Foushee, 52, barricaded himself in a home Thursday for more than 14 hours, according to an Osceola County Sheriff's Office report. He shot at deputies several times, but deputies never returned fire because they were unable to acquire a target and no deputies were injured, authorities said.

Deputies entered the home early Friday and found him dead of an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound.

Sheriff's spokeswoman Twis Lizasuain said there was no connection between Foushee and Matteo Patrick Giovanditto, who was found slain in a condominium Tuesday. That homicide was the first for Disney's master-planned, picture-perfect central Florida community with 11,000 residents.

Giovanditto lived alone with his Chihuahua and had been slain over the long Thanksgiving weekend, authorities said. Neighbors hadn't seen him for days, so they filed a missing person's report, then went into his condo a day later and found him.

It is not that your friends have been unable to steal more lyrics from Katherine, it is she is too happy to write. It is truly amazing how these people lie all day long. Another excuse when songs are not successfully stolen is the female stars have babies, the amle stars make up all kinds of excuses. Gretchen wants time with her family. Country singing was secondary. Fat Toby Keith is too busy with his label and promoting others, and the rest of them are too busy doing beneifts and charity work (another way to promote themselves in the meantime)

***Miranda LambertBy Mike Krumboltz, Yahoo!Thu, Feb 03, 2011, 4:10 pm PSTThis is one of those "good problems." In Ladies Home Journal, the country star says she is too happy to write country songs, which are all about "leaving and sadness." Lambert has good reason to be happy with a new fiancé and Grammy nominations888

The truth is she can't wirte and if her friends cannot "get" her the material she is clueless. So she comes up with this line.

A classic song for your playlist, try this brief masterpiece that just keeps getting better with familiarity - and volume. Jupiter is the centerpiece of The Planets by Gustav Holst from almost a hundred years ago. Over a million hits on youtube for this version by Osaka Philharmonica.

Shania Twain 'Why Not' airing in May March 18, 2011 01:45 PM EDT Shania Twain's new show, Why Not, will begin airing on OWN, on Sunday, May 8. On the show, the country superstar will share her innermost feelings about her failed marriage and her journey to a new beginning. She does so by heading out in to the world to meet people who have inspirational stories of survival after "deep life struggles."

**What a joke. The multimillionairess got divorced. She is already remarried.***

Twain will go on a tour of sorts to talk with people who have overcome hardships and who have asked themselves the question, "why or why not?" The show will encompass all that Twain has gone through privately over the past couple of years, and will embrace her voyage back to the top.

***Voyage back to the top? Another joke. The issue is she has no songs, no music, couldn't right a song lyric to save her life, and if she could and had the creative talent she would cut an album and it would be back on the radio in minutes.***

OWN (the Oprah Winfrey Network) is a great outlet for Shania Twain to really reach out to people who want to listen. Oprah was very cautious in choosing which shows she would have on her network, and Twain's sounds as though it fits in with the type of inspirational, educative, and stimulating shows that are already airing on OWN.

***the show will be a flop. Twain is a simpleton with no personality. One person who apparently is in the know called her the "biggest bitch in Nashville". Unfornately, I can't prove it but I can only allege all the hits she claim she wrote were stolen (lyrics). Perhaps Mutt Lange did come up with the melodies I don't have any clue about those.***

There are so many people who love and support Twain, and want to see her succeed. Her divorce was very shocking to the watching world, who have yet to see her publicly regain her confidence and her spirit. Why Not will showcase her journey back to the top.

***So many people who love and support Twain. Of course, they love her for the wonderful lady she is, not they want to make tons of money promoting her.***

Blowin’ in the Idiot WindBy MAUREEN DOWDPublished: April 9, 2011 Bob Dylan may have done the impossible: broken creative new ground in selling out.

The idea that the raspy troubadour of ’60s freedom anthems would go to a dictatorship and not sing those anthems is a whole new kind of sellout — even worse than Beyoncé, Mariah and Usher collecting millions to croon to Qaddafi’s family, or Elton John raking in a fortune to serenade gay-bashers at Rush Limbaugh’s fourth wedding. Before Dylan was allowed to have his first concert in China on Wednesday at the Worker’s Gymnasium in Beijing, he ignored his own warning in “Subterranean Homesick Blues” — “Better stay away from those that carry around a fire hose” — and let the government pre-approve his set.

Iconic songs of revolution like “The Times They Are a-Changin,’ ” and “Blowin’ in the Wind” wouldn’t have been an appropriate soundtrack for the 2,000 Chinese apparatchiks in the audience taking a relaxing break from repression.

Spooked by the surge of democracy sweeping the Middle East, China is conducting the harshest crackdown on artists, lawyers, writers and dissidents in a decade. It is censoring (or “harmonizing,” as it euphemizes) the Internet and dispatching the secret police to arrest willy-nilly, including Ai Weiwei, the famous artist and architect of the Bird’s Nest, Beijing’s Olympic stadium.

Dylan said nothing about Weiwei’s detention, didn’t offer a reprise of “Hurricane,” his song about “the man the authorities came to blame for something that he never done.” He sang his censored set, took his pile of Communist cash and left.

“The Times They Are Not a-Changin’,” noted The Financial Times under a picture of the grizzled 69-year-old on stage in a Panama hat.

“Imagine if the Tea Party in Idaho said to him, ‘You’re not allowed to play whatever,’ you’d get a very different response,” said an outraged Sophie Richardson of Human Rights Watch.

A 22-year-old Dylan did walk off “The Ed Sullivan Show” when CBS censors told him he couldn’t sing “Talkin’ John Birch Paranoid Blues.”

But he’s the first to admit he cashes in.

David Hajdu, the New Republic music critic, says the singer has always shown a tension between “not wanting to be a leader and wanting to be a celebrity.”

In Hajdu’s book, “Positively 4th Street,” Dylan is quoted saying that critics who charged that he’d sold out to rock ’n’ roll had it backward.

“I never saw myself as a folksinger,” he said. “They called me that if they wanted to. I didn’t care. I latched on, when I got to New York City, because I saw (what) a huge audience there was. I knew I wasn’t going to stay there. I knew it wasn’t my thing. ... I became interested in folk music because I had to make it somehow.”

“Folk music,” he concluded, “is a bunch of fat people.”

He can’t really betray the spirit of the ’60s because he never had it. In his memoir, “Chronicles,” he stressed that he had no interest in being an anti-establishment Pied Piper and that all the “cultural mumbo jumbo” imprisoned his soul and made him nauseated.

“I had very little in common with and knew even less about a generation that I was supposed to be the voice of,” he said.

He wrote that he wanted to have a house with a white picket fence and pink roses in back, live in East Hampton with his wife and pack of kids, eat Cheerios and go to the Rainbow Room and see Frank Sinatra Jr. perform.

“Whatever the counterculture was, I’d seen enough of it,” he wrote. He complained of being “anointed as the Big Bubba of Rebellion, High Priest of Protest, the Czar of Dissent.”

Performing his message songs came to feel “like carrying a package of heavy rotting meat,” he wrote.

Hajdu told me that Dylan has distanced himself from his protest songs because “he’s probably aware of the kind of careerism that’s apparent in that work.” Dylan employed propaganda to get successful but knows those songs are “too rigidly polemical” to be his best work.

“Maybe the Chinese bureaucrats are better music critics than we give them credit for,” Hajdu said, adding that Dylan was now “an old-school touring pro” like Frank Sinatra Sr.

Sean Wilentz, the Princeton professor who wrote “Bob Dylan in America,” said that the Chinese were “trying to guard the audience from some figure who hasn’t existed in 40 years. He’s been frozen in aspic in 1963 but he’s not the guy in the work shirt and blue jeans singing ‘Masters of War.’ ”

Wilentz and Hajdu say you can’t really censor Dylan because his songs are infused with subversion against all kinds of authority, except God. He’s been hard on bosses, courts, pols and anyone corrupted by money and power.

Maybe the songwriter should reread some of his own lyrics: “I think you will find/When your death takes its toll/All the money you made/Will never buy back your soul.”

...her the material.. She really isn't doing new songs because she doesn't have any or any that she has obtained without evidence that someone else wrote them. IF she was such a creative talent - believe me - she would be singing and selling and promoting.

FWIW this story is total BS. Of course the niave American public will believe it. The reason that Twain is not coming out with any new songs is that she has not been able to buy any. She can't write to save her life. Katherine has not left our house in years guarding what would certainly be some lyrics that professional thieves would steal and sell of to Twain. It has nothing to do about "finding her voice". It is amazing the phoney stories and excuses these people will come up with to give to the naive public.

Katherine and I are watched 24/7. There is so much money involved it is no problem to pay people round the clock to watch us. They move into the neighborhood and appear to go about regular lives while all the time they are watching. I know who some are but there is really not a thing I can do about it.

We almost put down one of our three dogs last week. Around two days later on squak box on CSNBC which Katherine watches most days Aaron Burnett read something off the teleprompter to the effect that lets take a poll if you would get another dog if yours dies. They do this all the time to us. Occasionally it is likely coincidence but much of the time it is someone contacting whoever controls what these news people say over the teleprompter. Someone even commented when she said this something to the effect that it must be an "inside joke". I read how everyone everywhere will have everything about them monitored because of the electronic devices. I promise everyone you do not want to ever become a target. You will live in a suffering tortuous world like we do. Like OBL lived in hiding in a house is like Katherine lives trying to ptrotect her lyrics. We committed no crimes. The crimes are against us.

****Shania Twain Desperate To Find Her Voice Through Tv Show

Country music star Shania Twain's vocal problems became so bad following the break-up of her marriage to producer Mutt Lange, she couldn't even sing in the shower.

The You're The One hitmaker admits she lost the ability to express herself after discovering her husband was romancing her best friend the day after he served her with divorce papers.

In the debut of her new TV series Why Not?, which aired in America on Sunday night (08May11), she says, "I came to the realisation that I had lost my ability to express myself and my ability to sing.

"It physically will not come out of my voice... I couldn't even sing to myself, I couldn't sing in the shower.

"It wasn't one crisis that did it; it's just been a very progressive thing... What if I can never sing again?"

The new show chronicled Twain's efforts to get her singing voice back. The programme's blurb reads: "In the summer of 2010, Shania started a journey to heal herself, inspire others, and find her voice."

On the show, Twain assembles a group made up of family and friends to help inspire her as she plucks up the courage to get back onstage. The group includes her cousin Kenny, who taught the singer to play guitar, her sister Carrie-Ann and her longtime bandmate Cory Churko.****

Melissa Venema, age 13, is the trumpet soloist. Here is Taps played in its entirety. The Original version of Taps was called Last Post, and was written by Daniel Butterfield in 1801. It was rather lengthy and formal, as you will hear in this clip, so in 1862 it was shortened to 24 notes and re-named Taps. Melissa Venema is playing it on a trumpet whereby the original was played on a bugle. Watch at this site.

"You see, it's not the blood you spill that gets you what you want, it's the blood you share. Your family, your friendships, your community, these are the most valuable things a man can have." Before Dishonor - Hatebreed

Woof, O.K. for all you guys in Europe, listen up. There is this awesome all girl band that is touring Switzerland, Germany, and the U.K. They are a tribute band for AC/DC, did I mention they are awesome? Anyway if you get the chance check them out and pass the word around, they are really great people and want you to send them friend request's via Facebook, they are known as the Backnblack Chicks. https://www.facebook.com/backnblackgirls

"You see, it's not the blood you spill that gets you what you want, it's the blood you share. Your family, your friendships, your community, these are the most valuable things a man can have." Before Dishonor - Hatebreed

Replying to something in the "Race, religion, ethnic origin, LGBT, & "discrimination" made me think of this song...

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"You see, it's not the blood you spill that gets you what you want, it's the blood you share. Your family, your friendships, your community, these are the most valuable things a man can have." Before Dishonor - Hatebreed

Days before Private James Marshall Hendrix (Jimi to his friends) was officially drummed out of the military, Army brass delivered withering assessments of the 19-year-old soldier. Hendrix, Captain Gilbert Batchman reported, slept on the job, had little regard for regulations, and was once 'apprehended masturbating' in the latrine. Sergeant Louis Hoekstra noted that Hendrix was a 'habitual offender' when it came to missing midnight bed checks and that the Seattle teenager was unable to 'carry on an intelligent conversation.' Hoekstra added that Hendrix, who was once suspected of 'taking dope,' played a musical instrument while off-duty, 'or so he says. This is one of his faults, because his mind apparently cannot function while performing duties and thinking about his guitar.' Those are just two of the gems contained in the late rock star's nearly 100-page Army file, which TSG obtained from the National Personnel Records Center in St. Louis. You'll find highlights from the file on the following 18 pages. The documents track Hendrix's messy 13 months in the Army, beginning with his May 1961 three-year enlistment, which came with his assurance that he wasn't a Commie and a handwritten explanation about a juvenile burglary arrest. Hendrix, records show, was a terrible marksman and a recidivist truant. Weeks after ordering a physical and psychiatric examination of Hendrix (who was attached to the 101st Airborne Support Group in Fort Campbell, Kentucky), Capt. Batchman sought to discharge a soldier who was an 'extreme intravert' and whose many problems were not treatable by 'hospitalization and or counseling.' Included in the Army's discharge request were various statements from fellow soldiers, all of whom thought Hendrix deserved to be bounced. James Mattox, for example, recalled an April 1961 incident in which he, Hendrix, and four other soldiers were assigned to wash a ceiling. When Hendrix, who occasionally napped during the cleaning assignment, disappeared at one point, Mattox went looking for him. He quickly found Hendrix in the latrine, where he was 'sitting in the last commode. I thought he was sitting there sleeping so I stood on the stool in the commode next to his and...there sat Hendrix masturbating himself.' For his part, Hendrix--who apparently hated life as an enlisted man--did not challenge the discharge request, according to a signed statement. At the time of his expulsion, Hendrix was allowed to leave the military with some parting gifts, including some Army-issued clothing. He also benefited from frequent dental care at Fort Campbell and California's Fort Ord, which probably made it easier for him to subsequently play that black Stratocaster with his teeth. (18 pages). http://www.thesmokinggun.com/documents/crime/jimis-private-parts